Page 22 of Unkindness of Crimson Ravens
The question put me into a stupor. Was I all right? I had no way of knowing. The dreading feeling of my body shattering into small pieces was now dull. I could finally breathe without constantly battling my lungs to obey me. I supposed I was indeed all right.
“Yes!” I said, surprised at my own discovery. My head spun again, not in a nervous, terrifying way, but in a way that made me feel as if I was in a dream: flawless, weightless. “Are you?” I said, giggling. My tongue felt like it was in a knot. It was so hard to make the words out, but for some reason, there was no panic, the opposite: I found it funny. A little.
“You will feel better in a few minutes,” Simon patted me on my shoulder, giving me a half smile.
“I'm fine.” A small smile spread across my face as my eyes traveled toward the dance floor once again. Everyone danced so graciously, flawlessly. I was almost jealous. Almost. “Shall we dance?” I asked Simon, not believing my own words.
“You shouldn’t dance right now. You will fall on your pretty face.” He said, smirking.
Was he doubting my skill? Surely I could dance, I was not nearly drunk enough to fall. Or was I? How would I have known, I’d never danced drunk before. His mocking tone made me want to prove him wrong.
“Is that a challenge?” I replied, clearly not being myself. Was I really asking him to dance with me? What was I thinking? I barely knew this man. “Well?”
“All right, let’s dance,” Simon said at last. Getting up from his chair, he offered me a hand.
I took his hand in mine, as he led me to the dance floor.
Chapter 8
Devil’s Creatures
Standing before Simon, I curtseyed, readying for our dance. He bowed for me, taking my right hand into his. The music played by the orchestra set the slow motion into our steps. One, two, three—one, two, three.
I had a strange feeling I was being evaluated, just like I’d been when dancing in front of court at home. I locked the feeling behind the wall in my mind, not wanting to think about it too much.
I followed Simon through the dance floor, keeping up with his movements with absolute perfection—as I said I would. Had he thought he could actually win this challenge? I’d been dancing since I was four, it would’ve been a great disappointment if in the last twenty years I hadn’t perfected my performance.
Simon nodded approvingly when the music started playing faster, more intensely. Listening to the rhythm of this piece, I adapted to the new tempo with less confidence than I had had a moment ago. I had never danced to a waltz that fast, though I couldn’t help but admire; the music was glorious.
I was used to slow dancing, loving the tension in each note, though this music made me feel something else: not romantic per se, but powerful, even free.
We passed dancing pairs graciously, moving to the cadence of the piece when my eyes spotted the orchestra for the firsttime. They all wore scarlet suits, playing their instruments with such elegance, such skill, they would’ve put any human orchestra to shame.
Mesmerized by their mastery, I watched them, thinking about my own violin. My fingers itched with desire to play my beloved instrument that was still at home. Would I be able to retrieve my goods one day? Would I take another step on the palace grounds?
Simon spun us to the center of the floor, letting go of my hands, allowing them to move freely in their own dance.
Lightning traveled through my body all the way down to my fingers. The pulse of the instruments reached my skin, reached my heart, making it beat with the same frequency. My breathing quickened, my body ached in exhaustion, but I cared not to stop. Addicted to the rush of excitement, my mind quieted.
Despite my years of firm training that deprived me of the ability to do the same, I now understood why no one paid much attention to the technique in this place. The music was too passionate, too intense to think about the strict rules. No matter my struggles, I still managed to make zero mistakes, though Simon didn’t seem to care if I did.
The music reached its climax, slowing toward the end of the piece. Simon spun me for the last time, graciously moving me to his side for the ending sequence. One, two, three. The music quieted, slowly transitioning into the next piece.
I looked up at Simon, enjoying my victory. “Someone told me, I will fall on my face...” My brows flew up.
